Never make a deal with a college student. It comes with too many conditions. Too many clauses. You give in to one thing and then they want another.
It never ends well. You find yourself in some unknown territory, like cross-country, bare-handed turkey hunting.
Or in this case, writing a column about my Opinion Writing class.
What was I thinking?
Here I was assigning THEM a project — their final of the semester. On the last day I told them when it was due and ushered them out the door.
That’s when one of them asked, just loud enough for all to hear: “So, are you going to do the assignment, too?”
Am I!?! What, are you kidding? I’m the teacher. I don’t do assignments. I give them!
“You should,” someone else chimed in. Then another. It sounded grand to them.
To quiet them down (read that: shut them up) I agreed.
Rule No. 1 broken: Never make a deal with a college student.
What could I possibly write about them?
They were a funny bunch, as most college students are. Full of quirks and oddities. They ate salad for breakfast. One of them had never driven. She tried when she was 15, but her first driving experience ended in failure. She crashed into a tree.
One student said he paid better attention in class while playing a videogame on his phone. Turns out he was right, and he rattled off questions and insightful responses while his head was buried deep in a game of “Temple Run.”
Nice bunch. Strange bunch. It was never boring.
They wrote about issues that mattered to them, and in a class like that, you come to realize college students aren’t apathetic. They worry about things — heavy, important things like the economy or alcohol addiction or sexual abuse or … well … college-age apathy. They went out and did experiential writing assignments like panhandling for a day, all to get a different mindset. To step out of their comfortable box. A girl who panhandled scored a $5 bill, a spicy chicken sandwich and a new perspective on the world.
The student who had never driven wrote about giving it another shot. She took a friend’s car out in a parking lot, and I worried the whole weekend about it. Maybe I should have had them sign liability waivers, I thought. I dreaded picking up the newspaper each morning, terrified I would find a front page story about a car stuck in a tree. Would I have any comment? Yes! Always keep your feet planted firmly on the ground, kids.
The semester has ended, and my class has gone on their merry way. I’m still stuck here trying to finish my assignment — my end of the bargain.
Hopefully they learned something from me. They said they did. Of course, they probably tell all their teachers that: “Now, that Aristotle, he was a pretty good teacher and all, but I reckon he ain’t got nuthin’ on you.” (In my mind, college students always sound like Huck Finn.)
I talked to them about focusing their pieces on people, on personal stories, on making issues relate-able and compelling. I told them they have to care about what they’re writing, or else they shouldn’t write. That they need to be creative and find their voice. That they have to have a point, and most of all, a back-pocket full of confidence.
Ah, confidence! That’s the one that always gets them. It’s the one that gets us all. They dread that I make them read their pieces in class, or that I give a personal essay as an assignment. What will they write about? What in their life could be important enough to tell others?
But we all have a unique story to tell, I explain. The one who doubts it the most is also the one who has others reaching for tissues.
They’re bright, thoughtful, entertaining kids.
Along the way, I learned as much from them as they did from me. And it’s taught me that as a teacher you have to practice what you preach. Your words boomerang back on you. Your own excuses ring just as hollow as the ones they come up with.
“Would you just go do it!” I often implore myself. It sounds a lot like the voice I use in class.
Which brings me here, trying to write about them. A good class. A smart group of individuals who made a deal with their teacher. And he’s procrastinating. Trying to find a way out. Trying to avoid his own advice: That sometimes you just have to sit down, start punching keys and see where it takes you.
And reminding himself to never — EVER! — make another deal with a college student.